


Undercover Work

by Cinaed



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar, Undercover As Gay, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Diaz and Santiago go undercover at a gay club for a case, things don’t go as planned. Still, it all works out okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scioscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioscribe/gifts).



> Thanks go out to [name redacted] for looking this over for me! 
> 
> Happy Yuletide, scioscribe! I hope you enjoy the fic.

Rosa had never been able to get a read on Holt. His expression seemed the same when he was happy, which was rare, and when he was disappointed, which, since Peralta existed, was frequent.

She respected Holt’s emotionless mask, as someone whose own mask still needed work from time to time. Still, sometimes it made things a little difficult. Like now, as Holt settled back in his chair and concluded, “And so I’m going to need you both for this case. I know undercover work isn’t either of your forte, but Delaney will only be in town for tonight, and our source tells us that she intends to be at this particular club. Unfortunately, she is always accompanied by several bodyguards. Since this is a public place, I would prefer that you draw her away from her guards and out of the club before you arrest her.” It was impossible to tell what he thought of the assignment.

Santiago, on the other hand, was an open book. Right now her eyes were wide, her mouth half-open in surprise. If you’d looked at a dictionary, Santiago’s picture would have been next to the word befuddlement. When Rosa nudged her-- well, shoved her elbow against Santiago’s side hard enough to make Santiago wince, Santiago’s mouth snapped shut. For a second or two, there was blissful silence. Then Santiago opened her mouth again.

“Sir, of course we’re happy to do this case!” Santiago’s voice was high-pitched and wobbly, the way it always got around Holt. Rosa wasn’t surprised when Santiago added with a weird, uncomfortable laugh, “Why wouldn’t we? I, for one, fully support the GBLT movement-- or oh, do you prefer LGBTQA, sir? I’m not really hip to what is the acceptable acronym. But I love the queer community, I really, really--” She stopped when Rosa hit her with her elbow again.

Holt regarded Santiago steadily. “I am certain the queer community cares deeply about you as well, Santiago,” he said, deadpan. As Santiago let out a quiet, embarrassed sound and somehow managed to give off the impression of wilting with despair without actually moving from parade rest, Holt looked at Rosa. “And how do you feel about the assignment, Diaz?"

Rosa thought about it. Having to go undercover wasn’t too bad, though she knew she wasn’t particularly good at it, unless she was playing someone who just had to stand there and glower. You know, enforcer types, that sort of thing. But doing it with Santiago? At a gay club? That seemed like a recipe for disaster. Still, Holt must have had his reasons. Besides, Rosa figured as she considered the rest of the squad, she and Santiago really were the best of the lot.

She shrugged. “I’m good.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as they stepped out of Holt’s office, Peralta sauntered over and yodeled, “Santiago!”

“Oh god,” Santiago muttered under her breath. Then louder, “What do you want, Peralta?”

Next to her, Rosa barely kept herself from grinning. That was Rosa’s favorite Santiago voice, though, the one she used when she was contemplating violence.

“Only to wish you luck tonight,” Peralta said with a familiar shit-eating grin on his face.

There was a pause. Santiago’s eyes narrowed. “That’s it?” she said at last, disbelief dripping from every word. “No obnoxious joke about how you’re sure that Delaney will be totally into my ‘grandmother trapped in a thirty-year-old body’ vibe? Nothing about how you want pictures if Diaz and I have to make out to preserve our cover?”

Peralta clasped his hand to his chest and shook his head slowly. “Santiago, that hurts. I’m not going to make homophobic and uncool jokes. Besides, nothing I can say now will top whatever disaster happens tonight. Fact is always weirder and more hilarious than fiction.” He paused, and his grin went thoughtful. “Although I did like how you jumped immediately to a scenario where you and Diaz make out. What were you imagining? Delaney doesn’t believe you or Diaz like the ladies, and you have to kiss Diaz to prove it? Or maybe--”

“Shut up, Pineapple!” Santiago yelled. Her cheeks were red, her face scrunched up in a way that meant she wanted to shove Peralta’s head in a toilet and flush it a couple hundred times. She stomped away, head down, shoulders hunched in embarrassment.

Once Santiago was out of sight, Rosa punched Peralta in the arm. She ignored his pained yelp. “Leave her alone,” she said.

“What is your problem?” Peralta complained, clutching his shoulder. “You have to admit, it’s pretty weird that she jumped right to-- ow, c’mon, Diaz! Not cool!”

“Leave. Her. Alone,” Rosa said, enunciating each word carefully.

“Fine, fine, god,” Peralta said, still rubbing at his arm like a big baby. “No mentioning Santiago’s crush on you-- _ow_ , ow, ow. Diaz, I think you broke my arm. Boyle! Get the first-aid kit, and maybe a butter knife from the break room. I think we might have to amputate and inspire a Lifetime movie--”

Rosa walked away.

She didn’t think about how it _was_ pretty weird that Santiago had been imagining them making out. She especially didn’t think about what it would be like, kissing Santiago, or how even when Santiago was dressed in boring suits, she still looked pretty nice.   

 

* * *

 

“How do I look?” Santiago asked a few hours later. She smoothed a hand down the length of her dress, which was a bright blue shade that, if asked, Santiago would probably call teal or turquoise or some other fucking pretentious color. It was a tight dress, clinging to every curve, and short, falling halfway down her thighs.

“You look fine,” Rosa said.

Santiago’s face fell. “Fine?”

“Good.” This was actually going to be the worst assignment, Rosa thought as Santiago’s expression fell even more, like Rosa had called her ugly. She sighed heavily, glad that Gina or Peralta weren’t around to overhear. She paused, then glanced under the doors to the bathroom stalls, just in case. “Look. Delaney is into brunettes. You look hot. She’ll totally want to bang you.”

“Oh.” Santiago brightened at that. “Thanks!” She gave Rosa a quick once-over, and then said earnestly, “I’m sure she’ll want to bang you too!” She paused and made a face. “This is a weird conversation. Don’t tell Peralta.”  

“Yeah,” Rosa agreed. She didn’t look at Santiago’s legs or wonder about where Santiago had her gun concealed. She didn’t, except she totally did, surreptitiously tracing the line of Santiago’s legs to the hem of her dress while Santiago looked over her make-up one more time in the mirror. Rosa was glad she’d stuck to a butch look. She could tug at the leather cuff of her jacket without her fidgeting being obvious. She scowled. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get her good!”

Rosa stared.

“Sorry. Let’s...apprehend her.”

“Better,” Rosa said and led the way to the car they’d be taking to the club.

 

* * *

 

The club was actually pretty decent, Rosa admitted to herself. The music was good, the kind that made people want to bone but was too loud for actual conversation. Plus, the lighting was just dark enough for some privacy while still letting her and Santiago scan the club for Delaney. She’d have to remember to come here another time when she was in the right mood, now that she was single again.

“I think I see her,” Santiago said. Her breath tickled at Rosa’s ear, made her twitch, both surprised and a little turned-on by the sensation. “Sorry. But over there, getting a drink at the bar. That’s Delaney, right?”

“Yeah,” Rosa said, spotting the woman made familiar by her mug shot. Delaney had changed her hair color. It was green instead of the blue it had been when she’d been arrested in ‘09, and done up in a faux-mohawk. Three people in suits stood nearby, their stance ex-military or ex-law enforcement. They had to be Delaney’s bodyguards.

Rosa looked at the way Delaney was studying the women around her, how her gaze lingered on dark-haired women. Huh. Delaney really did have a type. Rosa turned to Santiago. “Did you want to try and get her outside first? It looks like she’s more into femme than butch.”

“Oh. Um. Sure!”

Before Rosa could say anything, Santiago pushed herself away from the wall and began to weave through the crowd. Rosa watched her go, a little distracted by the way her hips moved in that dress and heels, but mostly just confused by Santiago’s lack of enthusiasm. Usually Santiago jumped at the chance for an arrest.  

Halfway to Delaney, still in the middle of the dancefloor, Santiago stopped. It took Rosa a second to see why. Another woman had grabbed Santiago’s wrist and stepped in close, smiling in a way Rosa really didn’t like. She especially disliked the way Santiago smiled back and didn’t immediately shove the woman’s hand away.

What was Santiago playing at? Delaney was right there. If they didn’t move soon, Delaney would pick someone up and they’d lose their chance to get her away from her bodyguards.

“Look, if you’re with someone, just let me give you my number. You can call me in a week or two,” the woman was saying when Rosa shoved her way through the crowd.

“Um,” Santiago said. She looked a little annoyed, her smile fixed upon her face, and her eyes narrowed. “You know, usually when someone says they’re with someone, you don’t assume they’re going to break up with that person within a week. I just think that’s a really rude assumption and--”

“Amy,” Rosa snapped.

Santiago looked almost guilty. “Oh, hi. I was just telling--”

“Yeah, well, she obviously wasn’t listening,” Rosa said. She glared at the woman, who stared back with an amused smile. “Like Amy said, she’s with someone.” She placed a possessive hand on Santiago’s hip, didn’t think about it until she felt Santiago shudder a little at her touch. “So scram.”

The woman released Santiago’s wrist and held up her hands in surrender, beginning to back away. “Got it.” She shook her head, glanced at Santiago. “Could’ve just said your girlfriend’s possessive, sweetheart. I don’t need that drama.”

“Don’t call her sweetheart,” Rosa growled, but the woman had already disappeared into the crowd. She turned to find Santiago glaring at her. She blinked. “What?”

“Thanks, Diaz. I was trying to be subtle so it looked like I was still single, and then you come barging in and claim me in front of Delaney! How’re we supposed to get her away from her bodyguards now?”

“Yeah, well,” Rosa said, scowling. “That chick doesn’t do subtle. You were gonna have to pry her hand off you with a crowbar.”

“I was handling it!” Santiago said.

It wasn’t until Santiago tuned and stomped towards the bar that Rosa realized she’d still been touching Santiago. She scowled down at her hand, rubbed it against her jacket under it stopped taunting her with the soft feel of the fabric and the swell of Santiago’s hip.

“Look, calm down,” Rosa said, following Santiago. “The night’s not ruined.”

“Not ruined? You just acted like a possessive butthead!” Santiago said. She started to signal to the bartender, then presumably remembered she was on the job and couldn’t drink. She huffed out a frustrated breath and then leaned against the bar instead, directing a glare towards Rosa.

Despite her own frustration, Rosa felt her lips twitch. “Calling people a butthead is only an insult when you’re like ten. You know that, right?”

“Shut up. You can’t just barge in like that! I was handling things. And you definitely didn’t need to grope me!”

“Grope you?” Rosa said, and laughed until she realized Santiago was serious. “Wait, what? I had my hand on your hip, that’s not a big deal--”

“Hey, if she was uncomfortable with it, it was a douche move,” said a voice to their left.

Rosa whipped her head towards the speaker and realized, belatedly, that she was glaring at Delaney. Delaney glared back, her arms folded against her chest.

Rosa remembered now: Delaney had a temper and a liking for getting people into a back alley and beating the shit out of them. A plan formed in the back of her mind. She crowded Delaney against the bar, stepping close enough that one of the bodyguards tensed and raised his hand towards where a holster bulged under his jacket.

“Yeah, well, no one asked you,” she snapped. “So buzz off, comprende?”  

“Rosa,” Santiago muttered through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”

Delaney’s eyes narrowed. “Is this going to be a problem?”

Rosa smiled. For the first time all night, she felt good. She bared her teeth and said, “I don’t know. Do you have a problem with me kicking your ass?”

“That’s it. Peter, save my place. I'll be back in five minutes.” Delaney shoved herself away from the bar, hitting Rosa hard with her shoulder as she forced her way past. “Let’s take this outside.”

“Fine by me,” Rosa said, and flashed a mocking grin in the bodyguard’s direction. “Hope you don’t mind your friend getting a black eye, buddy.” Then she sauntered after Delaney.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Santiago’s tiny nod of acknowledgement. Then Santiago fell into step behind her and began to complain. “Rosa, you can’t be serious.” Her voice carried over the crowd and music, but most of the onlookers glanced at them and away, bored by the possible drama.

The January air was like a slap to the face, the cold stinging Rosa’s face. She blinked, her eyes watering as she turned to face Delaney. She rolled her shoulders underneath her jacket, regretting she’d worn her formal one. She hadn't broken it in yet, and it was still a little tight on her shoulders. It would make her punching less effective.

Santiago had to be freezing in that dress, but despite the goosebumps covering her arms, she didn’t shiver. Instead she made a face, looking irritated with both Delaney and Rosa. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she complained. “How is this a good idea?”

Before Rosa could step forward and actually get the fight going, though, Santiago reached out and grabbed Delaney’s arm. “Ignore Rosa, please,” she said with a flustered smile. “I shouldn’t have let her come here. This was a bad idea--”

“Get off,” Delaney said, and tried to wrench her arm away.

It was over in a matter of seconds. Then Santiago had Delaney up against the wall, handcuffed. “Marta Delaney, you are under arrest.”

Delaney all but howled in disbelief, struggling in Santiago's grip. “Wait, what? Bullshit! This is entrapment!”

“No, entrapment would be if I arrested you for trying to assault Diaz when she started the fight. I’m arresting you for all the _other_ crimes you’ve committed,” Santiago explained cheerfully. Then she went back to reading Delaney her rights as Holt and Boyle emerged from the van they’d been hiding in.

“Great job, you guys!” Boyle said, giving them both a thumb’s up and a broad grin.

“Well done, you two,” Holt said. Despite his words, he didn’t look happy and his tone might have been remarking about the weather.

Rosa really did like that about him.

“Thank you, sir!” Santiago said, her voice going high and awkward again.

“Ugh,” Delaney said in disgust, her voice muffled against the wall. “I should’ve known you were straight. Got a crush on your boss, too. Typical.”

Holt raised an eyebrow. “Although I hesitate to speak on someone else’s personal feelings, it seems quite obvious that Detective Santiago does not feel romantic affection towards me,” he said dryly. “Our relationship is professional.” Then he glanced at the club and paused. “My husband and I came here once while we were still dating. We didn’t like the atmosphere.”

“Wait, what?” Delaney said as Santiago shoved her at Boyle.

Rosa laughed at Delaney’s baffled expression, then spotted Santiago beginning to shiver. She shrugged off her jacket, draped it over Santiago’s shoulders.

Santiago stared at her like she’d grown two heads. She didn’t say anything, just ran a puzzled hand over the smooth leather. It was a slow, careful movement, one that made Rosa feel like punching something again. Or maybe push Santiago up against the wall and kiss her. Sometimes Rosa had trouble figuring out if she was feeling lust or anger. (She was working on it.)

When Santiago still didn’t say anything, Rosa scowled defensively. “What? Your goosebumps outnumber the city's perps. If you get a cold, you’ll moan about it for a week.”

Holt studied them for a moment. “She is right, detective. While that dress is suitable for a club, it is not at all appropriate for this weather,” he said. He offered them both a small nod. “We’ll meet you back at the precinct.”

“Great job, you guys!” Boyle said again, and then yelped as he tripped stepping off the sidewalk. He almost lost his grip on Delaney and she might have bolted, if Holt hadn’t reached out and taken hold of Delaney’s shoulder to keep her still.  

Rosa sighed a little at the lack of a potential chase. Once she was sure Holt had a good grip on Delaney, she didn’t bother to watch them go. Instead she studied Santiago from the corner of her eye, watched Santiago run her hand over Rosa’s jacket again and begin to smile.

“What’s there to smile about?” Rosa demanded. “You spent half of the time undercover yelling at me. And I didn’t even get to punch anyone!”

“You lent me your jacket,” Santiago said quietly, still wearing that small smile. It was beginning to weird Rosa out.

“So?”

“So you never take off your jacket, much less willingly give it to another person. Remember when you were shot and that EMT tried to cut it off you?”

Rosa thought for a moment. She remembered a lot of yelling and the EMT whining like a baby about his broken nose. Otherwise that night was mostly a red haze of rage. She looked at Santiago again, and yeah, Santiago really needed to stop smiling at her like that.

“Well, you were cold,” she said, and only realized how lame she sounded when Santiago’s smile widened.

“Thank you, Diaz,” Santiago said, and then stepped in close. She must have taken a shower before she’d changed into her dress; she smelled of honey and vanilla. Her lips, when she kissed Rosa, first on her cheek and then lightly on her mouth, were warm and waxy from her lipstick.

Rosa opened her mouth. Then she closed it again. “Huh,” she said at last. She repressed a grin. “Okay, maybe today wasn’t so bad. Though we are not telling Peralta about how we’re going to bone.”

“Agreed,” Santiago said. Then her nose wrinkled in a way that should have been ridiculous rather than cute. “Although, can we bone? I think ‘to bone’ implies that one of us has a, well, a penis. Maybe another word would be more appropriate--”

“Shut up, Santiago,” Rosa said, mostly fondly, and dragged Santiago in for another kiss.  

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Matchmaker Matchmaker (The Gay Yenta Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576322) by [igrockspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/pseuds/igrockspock)




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